5 



-j Of .' 



The House Beautiful 

A Play in One Act 



By 
TACIE MAY HANNA 




SAMUEL FRENCH 

Founded 1845 . Incorporated 1 898 

Thos. R. Edwards, Managing Director 

25 West 45TH St. 811 West 7th St. 

New York City Los Angeles 



PRICE 30 CENTS 



ARE YOU A MASON? 

farce in 3 acts. By Leo Ditrichstein. 7 males, f $fr. 
stales. Modem costumes. Plays 2^4 hours, 1 interior 

"Are Yon a Mason?" is one of those delightful farces liks 
'Charley's Aunt" that are always fresh. "A mother and e, 
ianghter," says the critic of the New York Herald, "had hue= 
bands who account for absences from the joint household o& 
frequent evenings, falsely pretending to be Masons. The mes 
to not know t^ch other's duplicity, and each tells his wife ef 
laving advanced to leadership in his lodge. The older woman 
was so well pleased with her husband's supposed distinction is 
the order that she made him promise to put up the name of r 
visiting friend for membership. Further perplexity over this 
principal liar arose when a suitor for his second daughter's hanf 
proved to be a real Mason. ... To tell the story of the play 7 
would require volumes, its complications are so numerous. It if 
* house of cards. One card wrongly placed and the whole thinj 
would collapse. But it stands, an example of remarkable ic 
genuity. You wonder at the end of the first act how the fuit 
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»nd grows to the last curtain." One of the most hilariously 
amusing farces ever written, especially suited to schools am 
Masonic Lodges. (Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) Price, 7" Oen*ft. 



KEMPY 

A delightful comedy in 3 acts. By j, C. Nugent «»ni 
Elliott Nugent, 4 males, 4 females. 1 interior throughout 
©ostumes, modern. Plays 2% hours. 

No wonder "Kempy" has been such a tremendous hit in Ne* 
Work, Chicago — wherever it has played. It snaps with wit an 
tumor of the most delightful kind. It's electric. It's small 
lawn folk perfectly pictured. Full of types of varied sorts, eacB 
jne done to a turn and served with zestful sauce. An idea 
Bntertainment for amusement purposes. The story is about a high 
ilalutin' daughter who in a fit of pique marries the young plumber 
architect, who come to fix the water pipes, just because h? 
•'understands" he; flaving read her book and having sworn U 
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iept the audience laughing every second of every act. Of coursj 
^here are lots of ramifications, each of which bears its own brant 
.ff laughter-making potentials. But the plot and the story aed 
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Slean. (Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) Priae, 75 Oeati. 

U YtttTEX. FRENCH. 25 West 45th Street, New York Ottf 



The House Beautiful 

A Play in One Act 



By 

TACIE MAY HANNA 




SAMUEL FRENCH 

Founded 1845 . Incorporated 1898 
Thos. R. Edwards, Managing Director 
25 West 45TH St. 811 West 7th St. 

New York City Los Angeles 



PS 6,25 
"^H2f35 

All Rights Reserved 

Copyright, 1926? by Tacie May Hanna 

Copyright, 1930, by Samuee French 

Especial notice should be taken that the possession of this 
hook without a valid contract for production first having been 
obtained from the publisher, confers no right or license to 
professionals or amateurs to produce the play publicly or in 
private for gain or charity. 

In its present form this play is dedicated to the reading 
public only, and no performance, representation, production, 
recitation, or public reading, or radio broadcasting may be 
given except by special arrangement with Samuee French, 
25 West 45th Street, New York. 

This play may be presented by amateurs upon payment of 
a royalty of Five Dollars for each performance, payable to 
Samuee French, 25 West 45th Street, New York, one week 
before the date when the play is given. 

Professional royalty quoted on application to Samuee 
French, 25 West 45th Street, New York, N. Y. 

Whenever the play is produced the following notice must 
appear on all programs, printing and advertising for the play : 
"Produced by special arrangement with SAMUEL French of 
New York." 

Attention is called to the penalty provided by law for any 
infringement of the author's rights, as follows: 

" Section 4066: — Any person publicly performing or repre- 
senting any dramatic or musical composition for which copy- 
right has been obtained, without the consent of the proprietor 
of said dramatic or musical composition, or his heirs and as- 
signs, shall be liable for damages thereof, such damages, in 
all cases to be assessed at such sum, not less than one hundred 
dollars for the first and fifty dollars for every subsequent per- 
formance, as to the court shall appear to be just. If the 
unlawful performance and representation be wilful and for 
profit, such person or persons shall be guilty of a misde- 
meanor, and upon conviction shall be imprisoned for a period 
not exceeding one year." — U. S. Revised Statutes : Title 60, 
Chap. 3. 

©ciDpub. 48 



Printed in the United States of America by 
The Richmond Hill Record. Richmond Hill. N. Y. 

TMP96-007034 

my -a is30 



The House Beautiful 



CHARACTERS 

Robert Deax, a young lawyer in his early thirties; 
an amiable, thoroughly masculine, rather easy- 
going type, inclined to be quite careless about 
the details of his personal appearance. While 
attractive in his big, masculine way, he is far 
from being a handsome man. 

Marie Dean, his wife. She is a very pretty young 
woman a few years his junior. She wears an 
inexpensive, but very attractive gozvn suitable 
for an afternoon and evening at home. Her 
personal appearance bespeaks scrupulous care 
of every detail. 

Ed. Nuggent, a breezy young man. 



The House Beautiful 



It is early evening in a rather small, attractive 
living-room in a modern bungalow. There is a 
door at the back with a window and window-seat 
at the right. Tzvo doors are at the right: the far- 
ther one opening into a closet and the nearer one 
down stage opening, presumably, into the dining- 
room. At the left is a fireplace. The woodzvork of 
the room is in ivory, the walls are in gray, the color- 
scheme of the room is old-rose and blue. There is 
a blue rug on the floor, a fezv old-rose upholstered 
pieces. A divan is between the doors on the right 
extending toward the center of the room. A ma- 
hogany table is in the center on which is a tapestry 
runner in the prevailing shades, tzvo books between 
brass bookends, and a small brass vase containing 
one rose. A small mahogany chair is at the right 
of the table. Near the fireplace is a chair in old- 
rose, also a mahogany rocker. Near the chair is a 
floor lamp in rose and blue. C are f idly arranged on 
the divan and window-seat are blue silk pillows. 
There are tzvo or three attractive sketches on the 
wall. The room is in good taste in every detail and 
in perfect order. 

marie is seated in the mahogany chair near the 
floor lamp, crocheting. She gets up, goes to the 
window, raises the shade and peers into the early 
darkness. Turning, she notices that one petal has 
dropped from the pink rose in the vase. She picks 
it up and throws it in the fireplace. She goes to the 

[ 1 ] 



The House Beautiful 

divan, readjusts a pillow, smooths out the plush on 
the back, glances about the room, takes a small 
broom from the closet, brushes the rug in one place, 
surveys the room with satisfaction and returns to 
her work. Suddenly she Jiears footsteps and jumps 
up to admit bob. He wears an overcoat and carries 
a bundle of papers. 

marie. [Greeting him with a kiss] Home at last. 
I've been watching for you, dear. 

bob. I was beastly sorry to have to stay in town 
for dinner with old Spraigins but it was my only 
chance to see him. [marie takes his hat and hangs 
it in the closet as he takes off his overcoat and lays 
if over the back of the rose divan and lays his pa- 
pers and gloves on the table, talking the while.'] 
You know how it is, business is business — no end of 
details to see to, but success is my word ; can't have 
any loose ends. 

marie. I understand, dear. [He hands her a box 
of chocolates he lias taken out of his overcoat 
pocket.] Why, Bob, what a lovely surprise! How 
in the world did you ever happen to do it ? 

bob. Well, it was queer how I got the idea. One 
of the fellows and I happened to be at the corner 
of Sixteenth Street waiting for the interurban car. 
He went in to get a box of chocolates for his wife 
and somehow that gave me the idea — mighty glad 
it happened to occur to me. 

marie. I'm mighty glad, too. [She kisses him 
again, then, suddenly.] Why, Bob, has your tie 
been crooked all day? [She straightens it.] A tie 

[ 2 ] 



The House Beautiful 

that isn't straight affects me like a picture on the 
wall that tilts. I think I'll never be able to go in 
Mrs. Perkins house again until I know she straight- 
ened that " Joan of Arc " in her hall. [Giving the 
tie a jerk — she pulls it back — then she sees the over- 
coat and rushes to it.] Robert Dean! How many 
times have I asked you not to lay your heavy, dirty 
overcoat on that divan! 

bob. [Taking it from hcr~] Yes, yes, I'm sorry. 
[He Jiangs it in the closet as s/ie discovers the pa- 
pers and gloves and goes to the tabic] 

marie. [Holding them out to him] On the table 
as usual ! 

bob. Yes, yes. [He puts the gloves in his overcoat 
pocket and lays the paper over on the chair as she 
smooths out the divan.] Any mail? 

marie. Yes, a couple of letters and your home 
paper. 

bob. [Looking about] Where are they? I don't 
see them: 

marie. [With obvious patience] Where we al- 
ways keep them, dear. 

bob. [Looking about] Where's that? [Follozv- 
ing her glance.] Oh, yes. [He opens the drawer 
of the table and takes them out.] 

marie. [Taking the paper off the chair where he 
has laid it] Dear, are you through reading this 
paper? 

bob. No, I haven't had a minute all day. 
[ 3 ] 



The House Beautiful 

marie. I do wish you wouldn't leave it lying 
around — they always get sprawled out or crumpled 
— they are such a great big awkward shape. 

bob. [Taking the paper] Well, what do you 
want me to do with it? I can't hold it until I get 
ready to read it. 

marie. They belong in the window-seat. 

bob. Yes, yes, but [Making a movement to- 
ward the scat, then stopping.] Here, you hold it 
until I go through my mail. [He hands her the 
paper which she takes. He seats himself in plush 
chair, left of table, and commences to open a let- 
ter.] From the lodge! Wonder what they want! 

[The end of the envelope falls unnoticed to the 
floor.] 

marie. [Still striving to be patient] Bob! Let 
me interrupt you a moment before you get settled. 
It can't be that you have forgotten our agreement 
about this plush furniture and yet every evening you 
plant yourself in that chair. 

bob. [Not so patiently] Well, after all, it's made 
to sit in. I can't see that I hurt it any. 

marie. Don't be foolish. You know we talked 
that all over and you agreed that this other chair 
was just as comfortable for every-day use. [He 
gets up impatiently.] I wouldn't ask you to change 
if I didn't know you'd be just as happy in the other 
chair. [She pulls out the mahogany chair for him 
and as he seats himself she pats his head.] To keep 
our home beautiful is just as much your interest as 
it is mine, 

[4] 



The House Beautiful 

bob. Yes, yes. [He takes a case out of his pocket, 
and removing the glasses, puts the case on the table. 
He starts to read his letter.] 

marie. [Picking up the case from the table.] 
Bob! [She holds it out to him.] 

bob. Sh ! [Seeing the case he takes it, puts it in 
his pocket and starts to read again.] 

marie. [Spying the piece of envelope on the floor] 
I don't like to interrupt you, but [pointing to the 
piece of paper] I could pick that up for you, and 
I'd do it willingly, but you may not always have me 
around to remind you 

bob. [Rather too happily] That's so. [He picks 
up the piece of envelope and throws it into the fire- 
place.] 

[marie slips the paper she has been holding into his 
lap — opens the box of chocolates, putting the 
wrapper into the fireplace. Then she seats herself 
right of the table.] 

marie. [Offering him a chocolate] Such a lovely 
surprise, dear. [He refuses. She keeps the box on 
her lap.] It's the little things that count in keeping 
up a home, Bob. All I ever ask you is that you try 
as hard to do your part as I do to do mine. It takes 
me nearly all day to get the home work done and 
everything dusted and washed so that I can enjoy 
my home in the evening — so that it will be sweet 
and cheerful for you, dear. The best thing I got 
from those lectures on " The House Beautiful " last 
spring was that really touching appeal to the women 
to keep the homes attractive for their husbands. 
She said, " They mav not say anvthing, but they 

[ 5] 



The House Beautiful 

will appreciate it ! " Then she pictured the poor, 
tired business man coming home to a slovenly wife 
and a disorderly home. That's what drives them 
to all the clubs, she said — that's what drives them 
to all sorts of places. I was so glad that I didn't 
need the warning, for in the two years that we've 
been married, you've never come home to find any- 
thing out of place, have you, dear? [She gets no 
answer, bob is busy with his letter.] Have you, 
dear ? 

bob. [Looking up from his letter as he realizes 
some response is expected from him] Yes, yes. 

marie. [Reproachfully] Why, Bob! 

bob. [Quickly] No, no, I wasn't thinking. 

marie. I thought it was so touching where she 
pictured the husband in the stuffy office or dirty 
factory slaving for money to furnish a pretty home 
and then the wife making no effort to take care of 
what he provided. I thought of our old-rose plush 
pieces and how they are as good as new after over 
a year. [She sighs.] But it all takes work! I 
think you can't realize how many little things there 
are to attend to, though I tell you over and over. 
Now, I've been rushing this whole day, and this day 
is no exception. First it was the washing that I 
had to get ready for Mrs. Simmons, and then your 

collars and shirts for the laundry [During this 

speech bob finishes reading his letter, opens another, 
lets the envelope drop to the floor, picks it up and 
throws it into the fireplace. Then he opens the 
paper, crumples the wrapper and throws it toward 
the fireplace. It lands just outside but lie does not 
notice this. He remains absorbed in his paper as 

[ 6 ] 



The House Beautiful 

she talks on.] And then the dishes. And then I 
started the regular dusting, first this room, then the 
dining-room, then both bedrooms — I can't bear to 
feel that the spare room is dusty — and I had my 
usual round inside the house and out, picking up the 
things you left where they don't belong. Won't you 
try to do better, dear ? Won't you ? 

bob. [Realizing that something is expected] Yes, 
yes. [This seems to be what was expected, and he, 
relieved, reads on.] 

marie. [Growing more and more animated] Then 
I decided to take down those dark blue drapes in 
the breakfast room and give them a good cleaning. 
It stands to reason that they must be dusty even if 
they don't show it. So, I got the ladder and just 
got one down when the 'phone rang. Your sister 
wanted to bring the children over for the day. 
Well, I wasn't equal to it with those drapes on my 
hands, and besides, you know I adore those babies, 
but it's just agony to have them turned loose in 
here. After little Billy's last visit, I had to go over 
every door in the house, outside and in. You sim- 
ply have to choose between ivory woodwork and 
children. Well, anyway, I told her I was house- 
cleaning and suggested that we go to the park for a 
picnic some afternoon next week. You know, Bob, 
I believe that's the real reason why they have parks 
scattered about the residential parts of the city. 
Well, that made it all right, don't you think so? 
Don't you think so ? 

bob. [Suddenly coming to] Yes, yes. 
marie. Well, I went back to the drapes. Just as 
[ 7 ] 



The House Beautiful 

I got up the laddex', the dry-cleaner came with my 
suit, so it was down again and to the door. Then 
back to the drapes and down the ladder to warn 
those Smith boys to keep off the lawn — and so it 
went, up and down and back and forth — then plan- 
ning something for dinner — and this is only an 
average day, mind you. And then Mrs. White 
'phoned that it was my day for the vacuum sweeper 
if I wanted it. Well, I never heard of a carpet that 
didn't need it, so I went over the rugs and as usual 
I had to take the broom to smooth out this rug. I 
wish we'd never got one with such long nap. It's 
pretty, but — well, it's a sight right now where 
you've been twisting your chair. Well, one thing 
and another kept me going so that I didn't sit down 
to crochet until after four o'clock. But I'll tell you 
it's a satisfaction to keep everything right. [She 
pauses to look approvingly about the room, bob 
startled by the break in her monologue, looks up 
from his paper and says, " Yes, yes." Then, as the 
silence continues, he feels that something else evi- 
dently is expected of him. He puts his paper dozvn 
and speaks, very genially.'] 

bob. Well, dear, what kind of day have you had? 
[marie gives him one look of utter amazement, 
then, deeply offended, she returns to her crocheting. 
He, unconscious that he has made a break, puts the 
paper dozvn beside his chair with the comment — 
" Too many strangers in the old tozvn these days!" 
He then unrolls the paper in his lap. As he looks at 
the first page.] Well, the supreme court has handed 
down a decision at last on that Almire case! [En- 
thusiastically.] Say, that will mean a whole lot to 

us. Listen to this [He starts to read.] 

[8] 



The House Beautiful 

marie. [Interrupting, her tone quite icy] I sup- 
pose you are going to read all evening. 

bob. 1 just want to glance through the paper — it's 
my first chance to-day. 

marie. [With the tone of a martyr] Go on, dear, 
don't let me interrupt. I want you to enjoy your- 
self. 

bob. [Looking up in surprise] What's the mat- 
ter, Marie? Has anything gone wrong to-day? 
[She does not answer.] What has happened to- 
day ? 

marie. I'd rather not tell. 

bob. Why not? 

.marie. Oh, I don't want to trouble you with my 
little affairs. I'm afraid it might bore you. 

bob. [Pleasantly] Nonsense! Fire ahead. It 
never bores me, dear. 

marie. It might interfere with your reading. 

bob. Not at all ! Not at all ! 

marie. [Bursting out] Because you don't listen, 
that's the reason ! 

bob. Now, now, don't talk that way! 

marie. I know what I'm talking about. This isn't 
the first time either. I work all the day to make 
things nice for you and wait for you to come home, 
and vou don't even notice. 
[9] 



The House Beautiful 

bob. Why, sure, I notice. [He looks about the 
room.] What do you want me to notice! [With 
a little smile] When everything's always in its 
place, and always has the same place — why, don't 
you see 

marie. [Interrupting — she has stepped behind his 
chair] What dress am I wearing? 

];on. Why [He starts to turn around — she 

holds /lis head in front of him.] 

marie. See ! You can't tell ! And it's a new one 
you've never seen at all, in fact, and never would if 
I didn't compel you to look at it. 

bob. [With his head still in a vise between her 
hands] You always look nice to me. 

marie. I suppose you'd like me just as well in 
soiled clothes and stringy hair in a mussy room, 
now wouldn't you? 

bob. [Trying to joke] I told you once that I'd love 
you anvwhere in anything or nothing — and I meant 
it. 

marie. [Releasing him and walking to the side of 
the room] You think it's a joke, but it isn't. 
Pretty things are my very life. Every day I count 
the hours until you'll get home to enjoy them with 
me — and every night you disappoint me! You'd 
think I'd learn what to expect, but I don't. 

bob. [Looking at her dress] I'm sorry, dear. It's 
a pretty dress, very becoming, and I appreciate it. 

marie. You don't appreciate anything. 

[ 10 ] 



The House Beautiful 

bob. [Drops his other paper on the floor on the 
other side of his chair so that there are papers on 
both sides, takes off his glasses and lays them on the 
table as he gets up] Now tell me what is the 
matter. 

marie. You tell me this. Is this your home or my 
home or is it our home? 

bob. Why, it's our little home, of course. 

marie. Then why don't you take some interest in 
it? 

bob. Why, I do — I 



marie. No, you don't! You consider it just a 
camping place between office hours where you can 
sprawl about and 

bob. [Becoming irritated] Just because I pick up 
the paper to find out what's going on in the 
world 

marie. [Waxing warmer] You are more inter- 
ested in what goes on in the world than you are in 
what happens in your own home ! 

bob. All right, then, I am. I care more about the 
supreme court decision on this important case than 
I do about that new sofa cushion you're making 
or what size bow you finally decided to put on that 
bag you were worrying OYer last night 

marie. [Shocked] Good Heavens! That wasn't 
a bag! That was a boudoir cap! I showed 
von 

[ 11 ] 



The House Beautiful 

bob. I'll tell you what is the matter with you, my 
dear — you are too fussy — you spend too much time 
on little things 



marie. Little things take all my time. 

bob. And they always will until you get some- 
thing big to occupy you. 

marie. To make a beautiful home — don't you call 
that something big? Most people say it's woman's 
grandest work, and yet it's an appalling collecting of 
little things. You should be thankful you have a 
wife who loves her home instead of gadding about 
all the time. 

bod. I am, but 



marie. [Producing Jicr pretty handkerchief] I 
try so hard to make this a beautiful, attractive place 
for you. 

bob. [Cruelly] Look here, now. You don't dust 
and scrub everlastingly for my sake. You've got 
yourself fooled on that. You do it because you 
have become obsessed with the mania for cleaning. 
1 never have a week-end that I don't have to help 
you take curtains up or down or pull up rugs or 
something, and nine-tenths of it is all foolishness. 
Why, my mother had a big house and eight children 
and 

marie. [Horrified] You don't expect me to keep 
house as your mother did ! It's always been such a 
joy to me that I was giving you a different home! 
I've tried to make it up to you [She sobs.] 

bob. [Contritely] Please, Marie, don't. I'm sorrv 
[ 12 ] 






The House Beautiful 

I said all that. [He picks at rose on tabic, scatter- 
ing petals on the table and the floor.] I know I'm 
pretty frank, but I love you and would do anything 
for you. All I wish is that I had a little den where 
I could kind of sprawl out and have my own way 
without getting on your nerves. That's my idea of 
home life. 

marie. [Looking up from her tears'] And would 
you like to shut yourself in there every evening after 
being away all day? 

bob. [Stumbling along] Well, of course, I'd want 
you to sit in there with me. 

marie. [With great emphasis] Then you'd have 
to keep it in order! [Returning to her handker- 
chief.] You don't want me, you want a den — like 
— like bachelors have 

bob. [Suddenly looking at his watch] Bachelors! 

By Jove! that reminds me. Please don't, Marie 

[He goes to her; she mores away.] Listen, dear, I 
forgot to mention it — I had a word from Ed Nug- 
gent, secretarv of cur lodge and he said that he or 
one of the fellows would be out this evening to talk 
over a little matter of business. 

marie. [Looking up with sudden interest] Com- 
ing here? This evening? 

bob. Yes, he said he'd be along at about eight- 
thirty. It's nearly that, now. 

marie. [Is all action immediately. She dries her 
eyes, hurries to the closet, gets the broom and hands 
it to him] Here, just brush this over the carpet 
where vou twisted vour chair. I'll pick up your 
' [ 13 ] 



The House Beautiful 

papers for you and straighten the rest of the room. 
[They both hurriedly set to work.] Here are your 
glasses on the table. [She holds up the glasses to 
him, and he takes them. She picks, up the rose 
petals.] Now go to the closet and get your smoking 
set and put it beside your chair here. [Indicating 
the rose chair.] 

bob. [Feebly] But that isn't — he doesn't 



[He thinks better of it, and docs as she directs.] 

marie. And then light the fire — after you've 
picked up that paper wrapper. 

bob. But it isn't cold 



marie. But it looks cozier. Don't you want to 
show your bachelor friends what an attractive home 
you have? [As he fusses about the fireplace, she 
goes into the closet and brings out a blue and rose 
smoking jacket and rose-colored slippers, marie 
pleasantly.] Now you'll have just time to get into 
these and 

bob. [Pausing in utter disgust] Marie, you know 
better than to bring those out ! 

marie. . [Holding up the jacket, appealingly] 
Please put them on! Oh, please don't be so stub- 
born — you don't know how attractive you look 
wearing these and sitting in the rose chair under 
the rose shade 

bob. [His disgust growing] So I'm to be a study 
in old-rose 

marie. Don't be foolish ! 

[ 14 ] 



The House Beautiful 

bob. [His patience entirely gone] Oh, Marie! Of 
all fool nonsense, this is the worst. I simply will 
not wear that robe again. When you gave it to me 
I had to, once or twice to keep from hurting you but 
never again. I'm not that kind of a fellow. I'm 
no movie star ! I feel like a fool. 

marie. [Making an issue of it] Robert Dean! If 
you won't do a little thing like that for me when I 
try to make you attractive 

bob. [Laughing] Make me attractive ! Why, you 
remind me of the way my sister fusses over her 
little girl. [Seriously.] That's the trouble, Marie, 
you're full of fussy, mother instincts and you try to 
take it out in pestering me. If you don't have a 
child to vent it on — well, we'll both land in the in- 
sane asylum, mark my word ! 

marie. [Desperate] Are you going to put on this 
smoking jacket ? 

bob. [Equally desperate] Not while I'm in my 
right mind. I put it on that evening when your 
mother came. She's never looked at me since. 

marie. Don't blame the jacket. 

bob. I do blame the jacket and — and the slippers 
— you know what she said 

marie. She just said she thought you didn't look 
very strong 

bob. What red-blooded man would look strong and 
manly in a combination of pink and blue? 

marie. Are you going to put on this jacket? 
[ 15 ] 



The House Beautiful 

bob. Never. 

marie. [Trying new tactics] For my sake? 
Think of all the little stitches I put in there for love 
of you, dear, made it just as pretty as if it were for 
myself. Put it on! 

bob. Never! I have too much self-respect. 

marie. Robert, this is the show-down. If you 
won't do this little thing for me then I won't be 
responsible for what I'll do. 

[He ignores this and starts to build a fire. He finds 
he has no match and goes out for one. While he 
is gone, she throzvs the robe and the slippers on a 
chair, quickly goes to the window-box, takes pile of 
papers out and scatters them about the room, tzvists 
the curtains in knots, sets several pictures a-tilt. He 
returns to the room with matches and goes to the 
fireplace to light fire. It docs not burn well so he 
stays on his knees before it while she continues 
quietly to upset things as best she can. She pulls 
the remainder of the rose to pieces and scatters the 
petals, puts the books on the floor, puts the table 
cover crooked and then goes quickly to the door, 
down left. There she stops, gazes at the room and 
sobbing, goes out.] 

bob. [Not realising that she has gone out] Marie, 
I know I must appear an ungrateful brute, but 
3'ou're asking too much. While I have a spark of 
manhood left, I can't put that on, but I'll tell you 
what I'll do [He looks around and discover- 
ing she is not in room, he calls.] Marie, Marie! 
[Hearing her sobbing, he picks up the hated 
jacket.] Little stitches! [He listens to her sobs.] 

I 16] 



The House Beautiful 

Marie! Oh, I'm a brute. [He squares his shoul- 
ders, takes off his coat and shoes and putting his 
coat over the end of the table and leaving his shoes 
beside the chair he settles himself in the hated gar- 
ments as the bell rings. He goes to the door to ad- 
mit ed nuggent, a classy young chap.] Hello, Ed ! 
Did Wiggins send you? 

ed. Sure did. I'm flying around this end of town 
to-night. Couldn't get some of you fellows in your 
office. Put your John Henry right there, old boy, 
and I'll be on my way rejoicing. [He liolds out a 
petition which he has unrolled.] 

bob. What is it? Here, sit down. [He offers 
him the rose chair but ed takes the mahogany one.] 

ed. No, this is all right. I can't stop. [Glancing 
about the room.] Wife gone to the country, eh? 

bob. No, she's resting— has sort of a headache. 

ed. I've heard of her — swell little dame, so Joe 
Easton says. You know he and old Snithson were 
out here a month or so ago. He said you had just 
about the coziest, neatest little home he's seen any- 
where and one classy little wife. [Looks about 
rrom.] Sure she hasn't gone to the country? 

bob. Why, no — I told vou 



ed. [Interrupting] That's right, so you did. 
Well, I dropped in unexpectedly. [Returning to his 
paper.] Here, think of us poor fellows down at the 
club who don't have any little wife to tie us up in 
pretty colors and put your John Henry right there ! 
[He points to the paper.] 

[ 17 ] 



The House Beautiful 

bob. [Looking shamefacedly at jacket] I know I 
look like hell in this, but what am I going to do — 
she insists 

ed. Like hell ! Looks more like an ascension out- 
fit — got any pink wings? Never mind. I'm green 
with envy. That's what's got me. [Holding out 
the petition.] Here, step lively. I must go. 

bob. [Pushing back things from the table as he 
looks at petition] What is this? 

ed. To be brief, we have to get a show-down from 
the fellows at once so we can commence work re- 
modeling the club house. Naturally we fellows who 
live there are strong for it : we want it attractive 
and home-like. 

bob. [Whimsically] It won't be home-like with- 
out a woman to attend to every little detail. 

ed. [Seriously] No, of course not, but it will be 
the next thing to it — you're in favor of course, so 
hurry, please 

bob. [With peculiar smile] If I thought this 
could give you a " touch of home " I'd do it more 
willingly [He signs.] 

ed. There, that's the cherub! [Rising and again 
noticing the disorder of the room, although unob- 
served by Bob.] You know, after all, there's good 
business in you married guys helping to keep up the 
club house — never know when things may get 
twisted at home. 

bob. What do vou 



ed. We're housing a couple of ex-husbands now- 
[ 18 ] 



The House Beautiful 

trying to keep things sufficiently stirred up and 
"home-like." [With significant smile] So they 
won't get lonesome. 

bob. [Dubiously] Say, look here 



ed. [Talking breezily on] Well, good luck. Re- 
member you've a refuge in the time of storm. So 
lonp. Mv best to the wife. 



i s- 



bob. [Opening the door] Come when you can 
meet her. Don't you think for one minute 

ed. [Knowingly] I won't! So long. [He goes 
out.] 

bob. [Closing the door] Refuge! It can't be that 

he thinks — it's this jacket [He returns to the 

rose chair. Then bethinks himself and changes to 
the mahogany. He sits dolefully looking at the 
jacket when marie appears in the doorway. She 
sees him with the jacket on, is overjoyed that she 
has won out and rushes to him.] 

marie. [Putting her arm about him] You put it 
on ! You old dear. [She sits on arm of chair and 
glances shamefacedly about the room.] Now that 
you've put it on, I'm so sorry and ashamed, dear, 
for what I did. 

bob. [Thinking she refers to the jacket, he glances 
at it, fingering it] I've endured it for your sake — 
but I'm afraid I've queered myself. 

marie. [Distressed as she looks about] And me, 
too. He couldn't help noticing — nobody could 

bob. It's decent of you to admit it. [Still looking 

r 19 ] 



The House Beautiful 

at the jacket and the slippers.] I explained it was 
your doings. 

marie. [Shuddering] What must he think of me ! 
Oh, why did I do it! Why did I! [Earnestly.] 
It was to try you out, dear, I was desperate. You 
really, truly don't like it, do you ? 

bob. [Kicks off the slippers] Like it? How can 
you ask? 

marie. It really upsets you, doesn't it? [She is 
very eager for his reply, for the appearance of the 
room greatly distresses her.] 

bob. You know it does. 

marie. [Giving him a kiss] Oh, I'm so happy ! I 
did it to test you. I thought if you like it, I'd be 
heart-broken. For I love you so much and I sim- 
ply cannot stand it, don't you see? 

bob. [Kissing her] Then it's all right, dear — and 
we agree, after all. I'm glad you see how it looks 
for you'll never act that way again. 

marie. I told you I can't stand it. I just did it be- 
cause I thought you were stubborn. 

bob. [Delighted] Then suppose we take it off. 
[He rises and slips out of jacket as he speaks.] 
And light the fire with it! [He starts to toss the 
jacket in the fireplace. With a scream Marie res- 
cues it.] 

marie. [Horrified] What! Put that lovely jacket 
in the fire ! 

bob. [Mystified by her actions] Why, you just 
said 

[ 20 ] 



The House Beautiful 

marie. What? 

bob. You just said [Pointing to the jacket.] 

marie. Oh, I see — you thought [Greatly dis- 
tressed as she realises the truth.] Oh, Bob, how- 
could you ! Why, I mean the room ! 

bob. What about the room ? 

marie. [In despair] The way — the way I mussed 
it all up. [As she observes his surprise.] I mussed 
it all up! Don't you see? This and this! And 
this ! Oh, don't you see ! [She sobs.] 

bob. Oh, did you! [Then tenderly, as he tries to 
comfort her.] Oh, that's all right, dear! I hadn't 
noticed. 

[Quick curtain as marie drazvs away from him in 
hopeless horror.] 

CURTAIN 



[ 21 ] 



KICK IN 



Way in 4 acts. By Willard Mack. 7 males, 5 females. 
2 interiors. Modern costumes. Plays 2V 2 hours. 

"Kick In" is the latest of the very few available mystery 
plays. Like "Within the Law," "Seven Keys to Baldpate," 
"The Thirteenth Chair," and "In the Next Room," it is cne 
of those thrillers which are accurately described as "not having 
a dull moment in it from beginning to end." It is a play with 
all the ingredients of popularity, not at all difficult to set or to 
act; the plot carries it along, and the situations are built with 
that skill and knowledge of the theatre for which Willard Mack 
is known. An ideal mystery melodrama, for high schools and 
colleges. (Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) Price, 75 Cents. 



TILLY OF BLOOMSBURY 

("Happy-Go-Lucky. ") A comedy in 3 acts. By Ian 
Hay. 9 males, 7 females. 2 interior scenes. Modern 
dress. Plays a full evening. 

Into an aristocratic family comes Tilly, lovable and youthful, 
with ideas and manners which greatly upset the circle. Tilly 
is so frankly honest that she makes no secret of her tre- 
mendous affection for the young son of the family; this brings her 
into many difficulties. But her troubles have a joyous end in 
charmingly blended scenes of sentiment and humor. This comedy 
presents an opportunity for fine acting, handsome stage settings, 
»ad beautiful costuming. (Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) 

Price. 75 Cents. 



BILLY 

Farce-comedy in 3 acts. By George Cameron. 10 males, 
5 females. (A few minor male parts can be doubled, mak- 
ing the cast 7 males, 5 females.) 1 exterior. Costumes, 
modern. Plays 2% hours. 

The action of the play takes place on the S. S. "Florida," 
bound for Havana. The story has to do with the disappearance of 
a set of false teeth, which creates endless complications among 
passengers and crew, and furnishes two and a quarter hours of 
the heartiest laughter. One of the funniest comedies produced in 
the last dozen years on the American stage is "Billy" (some- 
times called "Billy's Tombstones"), in which the late Sidney 
Drew achieved a hit in New York and later toured the country 
several times. (Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) Price, 75 Cents. 

SAMUEL FRENCH, 25 West 45th Street, New York City 
Kew and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request 



NOT SO LONG AGO 

Comedy in a Prologue, 3 acts, and Epilogue. By Arthur 
Richman. 5 males, 7 females. 2 interiors, 1 exterior. 
Costumes, 1876. Plays a full evening. 

Arthur Richman has constructed his play around the Cinderella 
legend. The playwright has shown great wisdom in his choice 
of material, for he has cleverly crossed the Cinderella theme 
with a strain of Romeo and Juliet. Mr. Richman places his 
young lovers in the picturesque New York of forty years ago. 
This time Cinderella is a seamstress in the home of a social 
climber, who may have been the first of her kind, though we 
doubt it. She is interested sentimentally in the son of this house. 
Her father, learning of her infatuation for the young man without 
learning also that it is imaginary on the young girl's part, starts 
out to discover his intentions. He is a poor inventor. The 
mother of the youth, ambitious chiefly for her children, shud- 
ders at the thought of marriage for her son with a sewing-girl. 
But the Prince contrives to put the slipper on the right foot, and 
the end is happiness. The play is quaint and agreeable and the 
three acts are rich in the charm of love and youth. (Royalty, 
twenty-five dollars.) Price, 75 Cents. 



THE LOTTERY MAN 

Comedy in 3 acts, by Rida Johnson Young. 4 males, 
5 females. 3 easy interiors. Costumes, modern. Playa 
2Yi hours. 

In "The Lottery Man" Rida Johnson Young has seized upoa 
a custom of some newspapers to increase their circulation by 
clever schemes. Mrs. Young has made the central figure in her 
famous comedy a newspaper reporter, Jack Wright. Wright owes 
his employer money, and he agrees to turn in one of the most 
sensational scoops the paper has ever known. His idea is to 
conduct a lottery, with himself as the prize. The lottery is an- 
nounced. Thousands of old maids buy coupons. Meantime Wright 
•falls in love with a charming girl. Naturally he fears that he 
may be won by someone else and starts to get as many tickets 
as his limited means will permit. Finally the last day is an- 
nounced. The winning number is 1323, and is held by Lizzie, 
an old maid, in the household of the newspaper owner. Lizzie 
Tefuses to give up. It is discovered, however, that she has stolen, 
the ticket. With this clue, the reporter threatens her with arrest. 
Of course the coupon is surrendered and Wright gets the girl of 
his choice. Produced at the Bijou Theater, New York, with 
great success. (Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) Price, 75 Cents. 

SAMUEL FRENCH, 25 West 45th Street, New York City 
New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request 



MRS. WIGGS OF THE 
CABBAGE PATCH 

Dramatization in 3 acts, by Anne Crawford Flexner from 
the novel by Alice Hegan Bice. 15 males, 11 females. 

1 interior, 1 exterior. Costumes modern and rustic. Plays 
a full evening. 

A capital dramatization of the ever-beloved Mrs. Wiggs and 
Tier friends, people who have entered the hearts and minds of a 
nation. Mrs. Schultz and Lovey Mary, the pessimistic Miss Hazy 
and the others need no new introduction. Here is characteriza- 
tion, humor, pathos, and what is best and most appealing in 
modern American life. The amateur acting rights are reserved 
for the present in all cities and towns where there are stock 
companies. Royalty will be quoted on application for those cities 
and towns where it may be presented by amateurs. 

Price, 75 Cents. 

THE FOUR-FLUSHER 

Comedy in 3 acts. By Caesar Dunn. 8 males, 5 females. 

2 interiors. Modern costumes. Plays 2 1 /± hours. 

A comedy of hustling American youth, "The Four-Flusher" is 
one of those clean and bright plays which reveal the most appeal- 
ing characteristics of our native types. Here is an amusing story 
of a young shoe clerk who through cleverness, personality, and 
plenty of wholesome faith in himself, becomes a millionaire. The 
play is best described as "breezy." It is full of human touches, 
and develops a most interesting story. It may be whole-heartedly 
recommended to high schools. (Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) 

Price, 75 Cents. 

PALS FIRST 

Comedy in a prologue and 3 acts. By Lee Wilson Dodd. 
8 males, 3 females. 1 interior, 1 exterior. Modern cos- 
tumes. Plays 2% hours. 

Based on the successful novel of the same name by F. P. 
Elliott, "Pals First" is a decidedly picturesque mystery play. 
Danny and the Dominie, a pair of tramps, enter a mansion and 
persuade the servants and friends that they belong there. They 
are not altogether wrong, though it requires the intervention of 
a judge, two detectives, a villain and an attractive girl to un- 
tangle the complications. A most ingenious play, well adapted 
to performance by high schools and colleges. (Royalty, twenty- 
five dollars.) Price, 75 Cente. 

SAMUEL TRENCH, 25 West 45th Street, New York City 
New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request 



NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH 

Comedy in 3 acts. By James Montgomery. 5 males, 
6 females. Modern costumes. 2 interiors. Plays 2% hours. 

Is it possible to tell the absolute truth — even for twenty-four 
hours? It is — at least Bob Bennett, the hero of "Nothing but 
the Truth," accomplished the feat. The bet he made with his 
partners, his friends, and his fiancee — these are the incidents in 
William Collier's tremendous comedy hit. ''Nothing but the 
Truth" can be whole-heartedly recommended as one of the most 
sprightly, amusing and popular comedies of which this country 
can boast. (Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) Price, 75 CentSo 

SEVENTEEN 

A comedy of youth, in 4 acts. By Booth Tarkington. 
8 males, 6 females. 1 exterior, 2 interior scenes. Costumes, 
modern. Plays 2% hours. 

It is the tragedy of William Sylvanus Baxter that he has ceased 
to be sixteen and is not yet eighteen. Baby, child, boy, youth 
and grown-up are definite phenomena. The world knows them and 
has learned to put up with them. Seventeen is not an age, it is a 
disease. In its turbulent bosom the leavings of a boy are at war 
-with the beginnings of a man. 

In his heart, William Sylvanus Baxter knows all the tortures 
and delights of love ; he is capable of any of the heroisms of his 
heroic sex. But he is still sent on the most humiliating errands 
by his mother, and depends upon his father for the last nickel 
of spending money. 

Silly Bill fell in love with Lolo, the Baby-Talk Lady, a vapid 
if amiable little flirt. To woo her in a manner worthy of himself 
(and incidentally of her) he stole his father's evening clothes. 
When his wooings became a nuisance to the neighborhood, his 
mother stole the clothes back, and had them altered to fit the 
middle-aged form of her husband, thereby keeping William at 
home in the evening. 

But when it came to the Baby-Talk Lady's good-bye dance, not 
to be present was unendurable. How William Sylvanus again 
got the dress suit, and how as he was wearing it at the party the 
negro servant, Genesis, disclosed the fact that the proud garment 
was in reality his father's, are some of the elements in this 
charming comedy of youth. 

"Seventeen" is a story of youth, love and summer time. It is 
a work of exquisite human sympathy and delicious humor. Pro- 
duced by Stuart Walker at the Booth Theatre, New York, it en- 
joyed a run of four years in New York and on the road. Strongly 
recommended for High School production. (Royalty, twenty-five 
dollars.) Price, 75" Cents. 

SAMUEL FRENCH, 25 West 45th Street, New York City 
New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request 



TWEEDLES 

Comedy in 2 acts, by Booth Tarkington and Harry Leon 
Wilson. 5 males, 4 females. 1 interior. Costumes, modern. 
Plays 2 1 /* hours. 

Julian, scion of the blue-blooded Castleburys, falls in love with 
Winsora Tweedle, daughter of the oldest family in a Maine village. 
The Tweedles esteem the name because it has been rooted in 
the community for 200 years, and they look down on "summer 
people" v.ith the vigor that orly "summer boarder" communities 
know. 

The Castleburys are aghast at the possibility of a match, and 
call on the Tweedles to urge how impossible such an alliance would 
be. Mr. Castlebury laboriously explains the barrier of social 
caste, and the elder Tweedle takes it that these unimportant 
summer folk are terrified at the social eminence of the Tweedles. 

Tweedle generously agrees to co-operate with the Castleburys 
to prevent the match. But Winsora brings her father to realize 
that in reality the Castleburys look upon them as inferiors. The 
old man is infuriated, and threatens vengeance, but is checkmated 
when Julian unearths a number of family skeletons and argues 
that father isn't a Tweedle, since the blood has been so diluted 
that little remains. Also, Winsora takes the matter into her own 
hands and outfaces the old man. So the youngsters go forth 
triumphant. "Tweedles" is Booth Tarkington at his best. 
(Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) Price. 75 Cents. 



JUST SUPPOSE 

A whimsical comedy in 3 acts, by A. E. Thomas, author 
of "Her Husband's Wife," ''Come Out of the Kitchen," 
stc. 6 males, 2 females. 1 interior, 1 exterior. Costumes, 
modern. Plays 2 x /± hours. 

It was rumored that during his last visit the Prince of Wales 
appeared for a brief spell under an assumed name somewhere in 
"Virginia. It is on this story that A. E. Thomas based "Just 
Suppose." The theme is handled in an original manner. Linda 
Lee Stafford meets one George Shipley (in reality is the Prince 
of Wales). It is a case of love at first sight, but, alas, princes 
cannot select their mates and thereby hangs a tale which Mr. 
Thomas has woven with infinite charm. The atmosphere of the 
South with its chivalry dominates the story, touching in its 
sentiment and lightened here and there with delightful comedy, 
"Just Suppose" scored a big hit at the Henry Miller Theatre. 
New York, with Patricia Collinge. (Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) 

Price, 75 Cents. 



SAMUEL FRENCH, 25 West 45th Street, New York City 
Kew and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request 



MRSo PARTRIDGE PRESENT! 

■Comedy in 3 acts. By Mary Kennedy and Ruth Hw- 
tfiiorne. 6 males, 6 females. Modern costumes, 2 interiors 
iPlays 2% hcurs. 

The characters, scenes and situations are thoroughly up-«© 
jkite in this altogether delightful American comedy. The heroic- 
3s a woman of tremendous energy, who manages a business— «e 
d&e manages everything — with great success, and at home pr»= 
984es over the destinies of a growing son and daughter. He- 
flOffuggle to give the children the opportunities she herself had' 
iffilssed, and the children's ultimate revolt against her well-meant- 
[management — that is the basis of the plot. The son who is cae- 
SJkf the part of artist and the daughter who is to go on the stafci 
«fler numerous opportunities for the development of the comik 
feasibilities in the theme. 

The play is one of the most delightful, yet thought-provoking 
American comedies of recent years, and is warmly recommended 
0$ all amateur groups (Royalty on application.) Price, 75 Cen*e 



IN THE NEXT ROOM 

Melodrama in 3 acts. By Eleanor Robson and Harriet* 
Iford. . 8 males, 3 females. 2 interiors Modern costume* 
Flays 2i/4 hours c 

"Philip Vantine has bought a rare copy of an original Bottii 
cabinet and ordered it shipped to his New York home from Pa* & 
W&en it arrives it is found to be the original itself, the i 
osssion of which is desired by many strange people. Before $!te 
aiysterj concerned with the cabinet's shipment can be clean* 
l> two persons meet mysterious death fooling with it and tfci 
lajppmess of many otherwise happy actors is threatened" (Burt, 
j£j>ntle). A first-rate mystery play, comprising all the element 
vii suspense, curiosity, comedy and drama. "In the Next Room 
So faite easy to stage. It can be unreservedly recommended 
i:*l "choolt and solleg: 8 (Royalty twenty-five dollar* 

°rice 75 Geo* 



8AICUEX. FRENCH, 28 Wert ft6tn Street, Yew Tori Ctr 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




DADDY LON( 

_ 016 103 812 P 

A charming comedy in 4 acts, fc., — " ™ 

full cast ealls for 6 males, 7 females and 6 orphans, but 
the play, by the easy doubling of some of the characters, 
may be played by 4 males, 4 females and 3 orphans. 
The orphans appear only in the first act and may be played 
by small girls of any age. Four easy interior scenes. 
Costumes modern. Plays 2^ hours. 

Many readers of current fiction will recall Jean Webster"! 
"Daddy Long-Legs." Miss Webster dramatized her story and it 
was presented at the Gaiety Theatre in New York, under Henry 
Miller's direction, with Ruth Chatterton in the principal r&le. 
"Daddy Long-Legs'* tells the story of Judy, a pretty little 
drudge in a bleak New England orphanage. One day, a visiting 
trustee becomes interested in Judy and decides to give her a 
chance. She does not know the name of her benefactor, but 
simply calls him Daddy Long-Legs, and writes him letters brim- 
ming over with fun and affection. From the Foundling's Home 
she goes to a fashionable college for girls and there develops the 
romance that constitutes much of the play's charm. The New 
York Times reviewer, on the morning after the Broadway pro- 
duction, wrote the following: "If you will take your pencil and 
write down, one below the other, the words delightful, charming, 
eweet, beautiful and entertaining, and then draw a line and add 
them up, the answer will be 'Daddy Long-Legs.' To that result 
you might even add brilliant, pathetic and humorous, but the 
answer even then would be just what it was before — the play 
which Miss Jean Webster has made from her book, 'Daddy Long- 
Legs,' and which was presented at the Gaiety last night. To 
attempt to describe the simplicity and beauty of 'Daddy Long- 
Legs' would be like attempting to describe the first breath of 
Spring after an exceedingly tiresome and hard Winter. "Daddy 
Long-Legs" enjoyed a t^o-years' run in New York, and was then 
toured for over three years. It is now published in play form for 
the first time. (Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) Price, 75 Cents. 

THE FAMOUS MRS. FAIR 

A comedy in 4 acts. By James Forbes. 3 males, 10 
females. 2 interiors. Modern costumes. Plays a full 
evening. 

An absorbing play of modern American family life. '"^ e 
Famous Mrs. Fair" is concerned with a strenuous lady who 
returns from overseas to lecture, and consequently neglects her 
daughter, who is just saved in time from disaster. Acted with 
great success by Blanche Bates and Henry Miller. (Royalty, 
twenty-five dollars.) Price, 75 Cents. 



SAMUEL FRENCH, 25 West 45th Street, New York City 
Vew and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request 



